


Panic

by Tom_Tomorrow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Big Sister Alex Danvers, Big Sister Maggie Sawyer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fire, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tom_Tomorrow/pseuds/Tom_Tomorrow
Summary: "Kara. It's gone. It's gone, okay?"There's a pause.In the distance, the detective can hear more sirens approaching.Can hear the fire chief yelling for everyone to keep moving back.Kara's line of sight tilts toward her."Then, why are they screaming?" ||The past is never in the past.





	Panic

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is Slightly AU, it’s set post Supergirl Season 2 finale, but though I love Sanvers, they haven’t proposed to each other. Instead, they're just living together. Also for all intents and purposes, Kara doesn’t have freeze breath. Because I completely forgot about that, and only realized the plot hole when it was too late.

Maggie had asked Kara once, about how many powers the tall blonde had.

They’d been at Alex’s apartment, making small talk in the kitchen as Alex sifted through a stack of DVDs in the living room. 

And Kara had grinned.

That ridiculous, mega-watt grin that could blind a person when it lit up the rom.  

Then had rattled them off one after another, while spinning in circles on the bar stool across from her.

Strength, speed, flight, x-ray vision, heat vision, enhanced senses, and several more on the lengthy list in her grab bag of super abilities.

“So, I think that puts me at around eleven?”

The younger women had asked, a crinkle creasing her forehead as she concentrated.  

And the detective remembers laughing, saying something along the lines of, ‘ _I know you’re not asking me, Little Danvers.’_

Because after all, the detective had been the one asking.

“Goddamnit Kara, the more you tell her, the more paperwork she’s going to have to sign!”

Alex had yelled from the living room. 

But, Kara was quick to rebut that.  

Claiming something about the L-form covering everything.

“You lying to me, Danvers?”

Maggie had joked as she continued stirring dinner.

And as Alex had vehemently protested, she’d snickered with Kara, who had been just as eager to poke fun at her sister.

Yet still, she hadn’t been able to wrap her head around everything that the blonde could do.

“Super hearing, huh? In National City? Jeez, how do you even sleep?”

And Kara had laughed again.

But it held a different quality. Airy and forceful… And false.

And she tilts her vision back towards Kara.

Kara, who’d stopped spinning in her chair, sitting eerily still.

A distant look in her eye.

She had wanted to insert her foot in her mouth at that point.

Take back the words, that she had meant so nonchalantly.

But in that moment, the blonde unfreezes, wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah… yeah, it gets loud sometimes.”

Kara had awkwardly coughed, then leant over the table to see the contents of the boiling pot.

“Your _vegan_ spaghetti better taste good. Because right now it doesn’t look or smell like normal spaghetti.”

And Maggie let it roll off her shoulders, even when she had really wanted to apologize.

“It’s not beef, Little Danvers. It’s boca and it’s just as good.”

She had protested.

“Don’t let the vegan feed you lies, Kara. That’s what she said about the Boca Burgers.”

Alex had said, dropping a couple of DVD’s on to the kitchen table.

And the awkward moment was forgotten.

Maggie wouldn’t think about it again for weeks.

… …. …. … .. .. .

 

The calls had started coming in early. Just after nine in the morning.

Multiple charges had been detonated around the city.

Rocking buildings with blasts, setting them alight, sending civilians screaming.

And she thinks then God, God why.

Because can National City really handle another catastrophe?

It’s barely been a month since the whole Daxamite invasion.

And ironically that seems to be the only silver lining. 

In only that half of these buildings were still in the process of being renovated in the post-Daxamite era.

Regardless, all hands are on deck.

Fire Department. Police. The DEO…

Six denotation devices. Six buildings.

The last she heard Supergirl was fighting the culprit.

Some alien from the planet of Ogatoon.

But that had been hours ago.  

And now the sun is setting. 

But there’s still two buildings left.

The detective had been with the first responders in the last one for the last two hours.

 Trying to keep the blaze contained.

Pillars of fiery smoke and dust, were still boiling up from where the bombs had gone off far underground.

And the building had been dangerously unsteadied.

There were firefighters inside already. Evacuating the civilians.

But it was a precarious waiting game.

“Supergirl! Supergirl! You’re here! Thank God!”

The fire chief is saying.  

 The detective squints up to the sky.

Sees the caped hero landing unsteadily onto the concrete.

Kara looks exhausted.

And of course, she had to be tired.

She’d been putting out these fires all day.

But the detective senses something more…

Something else that bothers her.

Maybe it’s the way the blonde’s holding herself. 

 Very deliberately.

 Head tilted in a very measured position.

 Her fists clenching and unclenching, white amongst specks of glistening crimson.

 A faraway look in her eyes as she squints into the blaze.

 Dazed.

 She looks dazed.

 “Most of the building was still under construction, but there’s still…”

 The fire chief is saying as Kara nods.

 Relaying her the rest of information.

 Saying that they need her to support the building’s frame.

 That it’s on the verge on collapsing, but there are too many civilians inside.

 Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she steps away to look at it.

 Alex.

  _Have you seen, Kara?_

 Maggie pauses.

 Looks up to where the tall blonde stands, angled away from the bright orange flames now.

 Looks up to where the fire chief is still rattling off information.

 “This unit is on line six, not lines eight or four.” 

 The blonde stares emptily at him for a moment. Uncomprehendingly.

 Trying to put words together.

 And in the reflection of the fire, the detective can see her pupils.

 Dilated. Unfocused.

 Something’s wrong.  

 Maggie looks down at the text again before replying.

  _She’s with me. Building six, corner of Woodruff and Maple. What’s wrong?_

 Officer Davidson, another cop on the unit, points to his earpiece when Kara’s confusion becomes clear.  

 “Line six. Not eight or four. We’re on separate lines from the DEO and the main city unit.”

 Glassy cobalt eyes shift from the fire chief to Maggie to Davidson.

 There’s another moment of silence, before at last she nods.

 Brings her hand up to her earpiece as she fiddles with the frequency.

  _She’s been out of contact since the fight this morning. Never checked in._

 But she’s been doing that a lot recently, especially since the Daxamite invasion.

 Taking off for days at a time.

 Responding to every call for help.

 But never going back to the DEO.  Never going back home. Never checking in.

  _I’ll keep an eye out,_ she replies, _start heading this way though. Something feels off._

 The detective looks up again and the blonde is gone.

 “Where’d Supergirl go?”

 Davidson juts a finger towards the raging inferno.

 And Maggie turns back to building.

 Sees the silhouette of the younger Danvers sister amongst the blaze.

 Dammit.

 Never looking before she leapt.

 “You got this?”

 Maggie questions into the com line.

 Watching as Kara lifts a boot-clad foot, then slams it into the tile.

 Does the same with the other.

 Anchoring herself in, the detective realizes.

 “Yeah, I got it. I got it.”

 Kara is yelling hastily, shifting the pliable stainless steel in her hands, trying to stabilize the central column that’s supporting much of the floors in the building above her.

 But there’s an audible amount of strain that leaves the detective questioning the validity of her statement.

 “You sure?”

 And the detective doesn’t know why she’s asking again.

 Because this is the girl that stepped in front of moving cars on a regular basis.

 The girl that fought and beat Superman.

 That girl that single handedly stopped a space ship from shooting her girlfriend and more than a hundred others from shooting across the galaxy.

 And she’s been in several just as dangerous altercations since then.

 But now… something isn’t rubbing her right.

“I said I got it. I have to do my job.” 

The red caped hero bites out harshly. 

She thinks she hears a waver in her tone.

 It’s drowned out by the building groaning as the silhouette of her lifts the beams further above her head. 

 The detective nods hesitantly.

 Is forced to go back behind the safety line and let the firemen do their job.

 When she looks up again the blonde is gone.

 Consumed by the flames of the fire.

… … …. ….

 

Twenty minutes pass and things are deteriorating.

 People are yelling conflicting orders.

 The fire chief is saying one thing.

 The firefighters inside the building saying another.

 The police chief is demanding something completely different.

 And the reporters are at the sides, rolling cameras and spouting conflicting stories.

 As bystanders demand answers to questions as if they were the main priority.

 And Kara. Is asking what the right course of action is.

 Asking them what she needs to do.

 Because everyone is yelling different things.

 Maggie hurriedly tries to separate the voices blending together on the communication line.

 Because right now nothing is making sense.

 Then one voice rings above it all.

 Makes her blood run cold.

 The lead firefighter of the Team B squad.

 “- _Oh my God._ ”

 There’s a crackle.

_“Oh my God!”_

And there’s _that_ feeling.

 That feeling of impending doom.

 That feeling when it’s obvious something is about to go terribly wrong.

  _“Everybody stand back!”_

The fire chief yells.

 Too little too late.

A deafening boom rocks the street.

The fire had caught up.

A series of new flashes break out, lifting and spreading the loose debris, and then a great gush of flame rose. 

 It shoots up violently, nearly seventy feet above the ground, and the great rags of fire, changing from red to violet and back through the spectrum to red again, went soaring away, engulfing what remained of the fragile building into a hungry, angry inferno. 

 Windows shatter.

 Smoke and fire rush out.

 Thousands of pieces of glass and wood and steel, a deadly rainfall, shower down.

 Alarms - shrill and deafening- erupt from the parked cars along the streets.

 The com lines shriek, then go silent.

 And the blast. The blast sends her and several others, stumbling back.

 Until some officers lay on the ground, others shielding their faces trying to protect their ears and organs from falling debris.

 The detective winces as she straightens.

 Eyes blurring as she surveys the damage.

 The building is gone.

 Nine stories gone.

 Lives gone.

 There’s no way they could have survived that.

 Nothing but rubble and metal and flaming bits of dust.

 A mountain of ash.

 And in the middle.

 Kara Danvers.

 Smoky and charred.

 And alone.

 But fine.

 And her hands are still shaking.

 Holding onto the molten metal beam.

 And she’s shaking.

 Shaking so hard.

 As she stands in the middle, staring wide eyed at the damage.

 “Supergirl?”

 The detective murmurs.

 Barely a mutter, over the crackling flames.

 The whine of the sirens.

 The chief shouting new orders.

 The groan of molten metal.

 A whisper that won’t be heard, when she remembers the coms had gone off.

 " _Report! Team B! Status report!”_

The fire chief is yelling into his megaphone.

 Voice unsteady. Because he knows what the silence means.

 Other officers are calling into their radios.

 Requesting for more firetrucks. But their moves are subdued.

 Because they all know that it isn’t good.

 Maggie moves forward.

 Towards Kara.

 Because there isn’t much she can do back there, nothing that all the other officers aren’t doing.

 But maybe she can do something here.

 “Hey.. hey…”

 She says peeling away from the congregating officers.

 Wincing as she hastily maneuvers over charring wood and red brick and cooling metal.

 “Hey… Hey, are you okay?”

 The detective calls.

 There’s no response.

 Not even a rise of the soot covered cape.

 Not even an indication she’d been heard.

 "Supergirl?”

 Maggie’s asks, eyes falling to the beam in her hands.

 The blonde ignores her again.

 And the glowing red metal hisses against her skin as her fingers curl tighter into the steel.

 Burning.

 “Look.” Maggie glances furtively around, then lowers her voice. “Kara, you need to let go.”

 And she can see the girl’s arms are trembling, shaking as burning debris continues to fall around them. 

 “You need to let go.”

 And the taller woman unfreezes slightly, shaking her head in refusal.

 “No. No. Not until everyone’s out. Not until… You need to get everyone out.”

 Kara’s whispering, voice quivering audibly now.

 “The building is gone, Kara. There’s nothing more you can do.”

 Maggie feels wrong saying it because it’s not entirely true.

 But the young alien is in no shape to help right now.

 The blonde doesn’t even twitch.

 Doesn’t waver from the spot she stands on.

 Doesn’t acknowledge her answer.

 “Y-you need to... to go… leave. Everyone needs to… to get out.”

 “Kara. It’s gone. It’s gone, okay?”

 There’s a pause.

 In the distance, she can hear more sirens approaching.

 Can hear the fire chief yelling for everyone to keep moving back.

 “Then, why are they screaming?”

 And the detective listens.

 Listens hard. For Kara’s benefit and for her own.

 But there’s nothing.

 Nothing.

“They’re screaming. They’re screaming!”

 Her voice rises an octave and the previously hidden hysteria is completely visible now.

 Kara tilts toward her then.

 And Maggie can see the flames dancing amongst the emotion in the blonde’s hollow, unfocused eyes.

 Shell-shocked, confused, terrified.

 The metal beam drops from her hands.

 Landing with a dull crash.

 Then, the blonde jerks away.

 One. Two. Then ten steps forward.

 Into the dark, away from the crowd.

 Tearing at her cape.

 Rubbing her at ears.

 Nails ripping at her skin

 Maggie lurches forward after her.

 “I’ve gotta go. I-‘ve I I-ve go-gotta go.”

 The blonde is wheezing.

 Palming her way away from the wreckage.

Unsteady on her feet as she staggers forward.

Wincing, as Maggie limps alongside her.

“Wait a second, Kara. Wait.”

She calls.

“No… I n-need, need t-to, I g-gotta go.”

The blonde recoils away from her words, gasps out an incoherent reply as she tries to move away.

Words distinctly off kilter.

“I gotta, IgottaIgottaIgottaIgotta-“

And Kara falls to her knees, hands coming up to brace the sides of her head, eyes tightly shut as she kneels her head forward.

“They’re screaming. They’re screaming!”

Every word sounds wounded.

Every word is high pitched and filled with pain.

Shit.

“Kara, look at me. Can you look at me?”

The blonde’s shoulders are shaking.

And so is her head.

Refusing to look up.

“No. No! I… I…. Why- why are they… screaming! It’s too loud. It’s too loud!”

Her words slur together, chest expanding hastily as she draws in raspy, uneven breaths.

And Maggie realizes what this is.

“Hey… Hey… Try to focus on me okay? Focus on me.”

And Kara is looking at her now.

Pupils dilated and unseeing, but filled with pain, grief, and complete unbridled terror.

 Maggie has never seen Kara so scared before. Tears threaten to fall as the hero struggled to hold herself together.

She’s shaking harder now, practically quaking on her spot.

“Make it stop! Make it stop!”

She can’t.

She doesn’t know how.  

 

….

 

In the end, it’s Alex who calms her down.

Alex, who pulls up minutes later.  

Who’s done this before.

And knows what to do now.

Shushing her, hands hovering close to her sister, but not quite touching.

And Kara is curled into the ground.

Eyes shut, ears covered, whimpering in pain.

Murmuring that everything is too loud and too bright and too loud.

‘Don’t talk, just breathe,’ The older Danvers sister murmurs, and there are tears in her own voice now.

And Kara is nodding. And Kara is trying.

 But what she’s doing is the complete opposite.  

That she can’t, can’t, can’t… 

Saying that out loud, over and over again between desperate gasps.

“Just breathe.”

The taller brunette repeats, looking her younger sister in the eye and demonstrating: a slow, deep breath, in and out.

It’s crazy how something so easy can be so hard, but Kara is doing it for her. In. Out. In. Out.

Synchronized like the ticking of a metronome.

Until, at last, with a conscious effort, Kara’s stuttered gasps slowly begin to synchronize with her sister’s.

Hampered by hitching now and again, but slowly evening out.

It’s just the three of them now.

The detective having moved to the peripheral, instructing Davidson to make sure no one crossed passed the alley, lest the media and other prying eyes get nosy and make things worse.

“Can I touch you?”

The blonde shakily nods. 

Her muscular form still quivering as Alex draws her into her arms/

 ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…’

‘Oh Kara,’ she sighs, twisting herself around to sit down next to her, ‘it’s not your fault. You tried, didn’t you?’

She puts an arm around her shoulder, urging the trembling girl nearer so that she’s leaning against her.

‘You tried, but you know… you know you can’t save everyone,’ she continues.

"It smelled like Krypton,’ Kara whispers as she visibly tightens her iron grip on Alex’s jacket.

And her girlfriend’s hands move to the sides of Kara’s face, along her jaw, lifting her head that’s burrowing into her jacket.

Asking the blonde to look at her.

“It’s not Krypton, Kara. You’re here on Earth. With me. With Maggie.”

And Kara nods miserably, as Alex motions the detective closer, searching her younger sister’s eyes.

Gesturing for the detective to take her sister’s other hand, knowing that the alien needs something to ground her.

“The city is screaming Alex, it’s always screaming. And usually I can drown it out. I can make myself stop listening. But now… but now…”

And Kara’s cool, clammy hand curls instinctively around the detective's as Maggie settles down on her other side.

Maggie watches Alex nod.

Watches her stifle the words she obviously wants to say.

“When was the last time you got any sleep, Kara?”

“Uh…”

There’s a shaky pause.

“Four… five days ago.”

And Alex is shaking her head.

Tears in her own eyes now.

“Jesus. Kara why didn’t you come to us?”

“I... I wanted you guys… you guys to be happy.”

 Kara hiccups.

“Kara, we can’t be happy, if you’re not safe. It’s one of the prerequisites. You can always come to us.”

Maggie murmurs.

And Kara’s hand tightens around hers.  

Until it’s just the three of them in the dark.

Until it’s just them and the soft sounds of sirens in the background.

Minutes pass.

“You know what…”

Kara drawls, interrupting the silence.

Y-you k-know what? I think this city wants to die. National City wants to die.”

 Whispering lightly, even when the words are heavy in impact.

Thinly veiled hysteria hidden in her tone of defeat.

“Hey… hey.”

Alex is murmuring.

Looking over Kara’s head questioningly to the detective.

As if she would have an answer.

“No. Everyone in this city wants to die! I… I… I sent Mon-el into space and beat Kal-el into the ground and killed a w-whole entire fucking species for this goddamn city, and it can’t even hold its shit together for a month.”

Kara slurs softly into her sister’s leather jacket.

“It’s like- l-like nothing I do is going to matter.”

And in a way, she was right.

But it’s through no fault of her own.

It was just the crime mentality.

Strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... often breeds catastrophe.

It was a game to them.

A game without reason.

A game that would always be impossible to beat.

“You need to take a break, Kara. You can’t keep going on like this.”

Alex murmurs. 

“But… I can’t take a break, Alex. I can’t. I can’t- I can’t… I can’t…”

 She whispers miserably.

 “Because if I hear that scream. And I just sit there. And I do nothing. What kind of person does that make me?”

 There’s no easy way to answer that question.

 

_Fin_.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: PTSD is never fun. I feel like the writers keep on forgetting the world of tragedy Kara came from. They write Kara as that person who keeps pushing through for the sake of others even when they’re falling apart, but because it’s the CW they will probably never touch on the true implications of that.


End file.
